Coming Home

Pt. 1 Gravel Road

Atlas.
Thirteen years later.

This stupid bronco is falling apart.

I knew that. I drove it everywhere, and nobody knew how to fix it when it fell apart except for me.

And Jace.

Pulling into the local feed store about 15 minutes from my families ranch, I stopped to take a breath. I had too much on my plate for once and I definitely could use a moment to collect myself.

At twenty three years old, I was doing pretty good and living the dream.

My dream.

I graduated from Baylor University with my undergraduate at the top of my class at only 18 years old (skipped a few grades in high school) and then finished veterinary school at 20. I was running one of the best stables in all of Texas on my families ranch on top of my already sky rocketing practice and a wild life sanctuary and rehabilitation center. It was a big job.

And a lot of upkeep.

Maybe... too much upkeep?

After a minute to myself, I climbed out of my old beat up bronco and made my way inside; causing the bell above the door to ring, making good old Mr. Scott turn around.

"Well good morning Dr. Jennings. What can I do for you today!" Mr. Scott was a kind old man in his early sixties. He had owned this store since he was 20 years old. Long before I was around, and he had watched Little Ol' me grow up way too fast.

His opinion, in my opinion growing up seemed to drag on forever.

"Oh stop with the doctor mess Scott! I'm here to pick up an order of feed, for the wild life sanctuary as well as the stables, Oh and Goliaths medicine should've been delivered here." I listed off my pick up list I had made the other day and Scott just nodded along going about picking up the things in the store that I needed.

"I got it all ready for ya, darlin. I'll go ahead and drop it in that old rust bucket of yours." The old man smirked at me, mr. Scott liked to push my buttons because he knew I was stubborn and he knew I'd never get rid of that damn truck and so did I.

All because I made a promise.

Who knew a ten year old could keep a pinky promise so well.

Playing with the cold dog tags around my neck I shook my head at the old man.
Helping him out the door to the loading dock to help him pack everything in the back of the bronco.

****

Jace.

My head felt like a nine pound hammer beating out of my chest as I took the gravel road I had been so desperate to see in thirteen years.

Thirteen years of literal hell.

God I was so happy to be home.

Pulling up to the stark white farm house in front of me, I put my old beat up truck in park and leaned back against the seat; trying to calm my racing heart.

I shouldn't be this nervous.

But I am.

Right through those doors, is the family I abandoned with no answers for two years.

Fuck. I'm a Jack ass.

Shaking off my fear and calming the tremors that wracked my body; I stepped out of my truck, slamming the door behind me.

It was now or never.

I stood on the front porch, for what seemed like an eternity before finally raising my fist to knock. Usually, I would've walked right in. But in thirteen years, so much had changed on the outside. I doubted walking right in would be the right thing to do.

Just as my knuckles touched the door, it swung open. Before me stood the only other man I had once called my brother.

Erik Jennings.

Last time I had seen Erik he was a scrawny 15 year old, who I had taught months prior how to shave for the first time. Now, before me stood a 6'3" grown man in a sheriffs uniform.

I watched as his face paled for a moment before tears sprung in his eyes. The sheriffs badge he had held in his hands moments before clamored to the ground as he wrapped his arms around me in an embrace I hadn't been expecting.

"Holy fuck. We thought you were dead Jay!" I choked back my tears as he tightened his grip on me, leading me into the house.

"It felt like I was when I wasn't here with ya'll.." My voice cracked through my emotions. I took a seat on the dark leather couch.
"Hey, Jace I'm gonna call out real quick can you give me a moment? Make your self at home. It is still your home you know?" I nodded my head to Erik and gave him a weak smile.

Was it really still my home?

I got up when Erik stepped away. I wondered around the living room, glancing at photos. All of them held one person I had missed most.

Atlas.

My sunshine.

I stopped and admired one in particular. It was a photo of Atlas standing in a long white coat holding a Baylor University diploma. Her long bright blond hair flowing down her back in waves and her eyes shining brightly like they'd always done.

The photo was dated three years ago.

A year before everything had happened.

Why did I come back...